Although
I’ve never belonged to an organisation that has either a direct-lineal or
distant-familial connection to Hasan al-Banna (1906-1949), I am compelled to
admit his significant impact on his own world and the world that we currently
inhabit. Hence a study of the man and his legacy should provide some
explanations as to why he is still relevant. Indeed, our age of psychological
and physical chaos makes the need for remedies to the contemporary human
condition most urgent. Al-Banna’s life fits in with a diverse grouping of
twentieth-century individuals and their collectives to bring about a revival of
what they considered to be orthodoxy; and al-Banna’s tale would, arguably,
occupy the distinction of being the most riveting tale in such annals of
history, for its sheer scope of vision and action, and unprecedented
significance, which has continued to our own time. Al-Banna is seen to have
inheritors in the moderate ‘Islamists’ – the latter being a truly horrid term,
which I think should be dismissed from use – and here is where a neutral
Englishman like myself sees a significant opportunity for al-Banna’s legacy to
provide a personal and societal benefit. In this latter regard, Seumas Milne has
written how ‘senior figures in the police, including special branch, whose job
is to counter terror groups in the Muslim community’, see these type of
organisations as possessing the ‘best antidotes’ to extreme ‘propaganda’ (see
Milne’s comment article in The Guardian, 5 July 2007). Therefore we might all be
able to breathe a sigh of relief if such groups are better able to embody
al-Banna’s legacy, as a means of making our countries safer places in which to
reside.

In essence,
al-Banna’s spiritual method, and that of some of his most notable heirs, is one
that conforms to the wide parameters of the orthodox, or Sunni, method, but with
an uncanny tendency to resolve controversies and challenges in a manner that
seems reasonable, consistent with the texts, and backed by scholarship – all of
which helps explain the lasting relevance of the man and his effort. Of course,
we don’t have to agree with him on everything, but we can all, perhaps, be
enriched by understanding him, whether it is to benefit from the positive
characteristics or to learn from those matters in which we find disagreement
with him or his heirs. Nevertheless, Shaykh Qaradawi is so impressed by Hasan
al-Banna that he has written in Priorities of the Islamic Movement in the Coming
Phase: ‘Shaykh [Muhammad] al-Ghazali was right to call him [Hasan al-Banna] “the
Mujaddid [reviver] of the fourteenth [Islamic] century”’ – in reference to the
hadith related by Abu Da’ud and al-Hakim, which Shaykh Qaradawi says – in
Approaching the Sunnah – was ‘authenticated’ by ‘more than one scholar’, and it
reads: ‘God will send to this Community at the head of every century one who
will renew for it its religion’.

I intend to
focus on the spiritual legacy because any correctly articulated orthodox
religious expression is always bound to have an emphasis on a spiritual
imperative and prioritisation, because the message of Islam is primarily
spiritual; and the Word of God, the Majestic Qur’an, bears testimony to this
assertion. God tells us: Man is indeed in loss, except those who believe and do
good works, and exhort one another to truth, and exhort one another to patience
[103:2-3]. So belief is foundational to the acceptance of a bondsman to the
Creator, but the law of God is also enjoined upon the believers. God teaches us
that the revelation – legislating beliefs and laws – is a spiritual healing: O
mankind! There has come to you a counsel from your Lord, and a healing for what
is in the breasts, and a guidance and a mercy to the believers [10:57].
Furthermore, we are informed that the ability to believe is itself a
manifestation of a healthy spirituality: Have they not travelled in the land,
and have they hearts to comprehend with, or ears to hear with? For it is not the
eyes that become blind, but it is the hearts in the chests that become blind
[22:46]. One relies upon God to purify one’s heart so that it is a suitable
receptacle for Divine truths, for which the consequences are a dedication to the
obligations and recommendations of God through His final and greatest Prophet,
Muhammad (may the peace and blessings of God be upon him): Allah leads astray
whom He will… [13:27]; but one should also bear in mind: He is the All-Merciful,
the Compassionate [59:22] and that Your Lord is never unjust to His servants
[41:46]. Hence the judging of one’s deeds also has a naturally distinctly
spiritual emphasis, as contained in the supplication of the Prophet Ibrahim
(upon him be God’s peace): My Lord!…abase me not on the day when they are
raised, the day when wealth and sons avail not, save him who brings to Allah a
heart that is whole [see 26:83-89]. Nevertheless, a this-worldly benefit for
spiritual endeavour is also made known to mankind: Those who believe and whose
hearts find tranquillity in the remembrance of Allah. It is in the remembrance
of Allah that hearts find tranquillity [13:28].

Part Two:
On Hasan al-Banna

Hasan
al-Banna was born in an age of great turmoil for the Muslims, and his land of
Egypt was central to the proceedings of the time. Shaykh Abul Hasan Ali Nadwi,
in Western Civilization, Islam and Muslims, has given us his appraisal of the
hopes that he felt the whole world were justified in placing on Egypt in the
late-nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries. For Nadwi, the Egypt of this
period was ‘in a most happy position’ to integrate ‘the sciences and techniques
developed in the West’ with the ‘moral and spiritual foundations of a clean and
successful life that are the real legacy of the Islamic East’, which had been
‘inherited by the Egyptians’ to ‘a large part’; in the process, it could be ‘the
fittest vehicle for the augmentation and dissemination of its priceless Islamic
heritage’. Nadwi identified two advantages that the Egyptians had in their
favour. Firstly, the fact that Egypt was the most intellectual society ‘in the
sphere of knowledge and study of the Arabic language and literature and of the
theological sciences of Islam, coupled with the abundant facilities of publicity
and propagation which included the presence of the University of Azhar (the
foremost seat of Islamic learning in the world)’. Secondly, again in Nadwi’s own
words, ‘the innate mental resiliency of its people and their knack for cultural
accommodation’.

Yet, alas,
Nadwi resigns himself to the fact that ‘various political and other factors
combined to hold back Egypt from exerting its influence over the West and
assuming the role of leadership’ – and this essay is not the place for
discussing these reasons. Nadwi has very positive things to say about the Muslim
Brotherhood [al-Ikhwan al-Muslimin] that Hasan al-Banna founded in the midst of
this perplexing period of history, and was to possess – according to S.M. Hasan
al-Banna, in the Introduction to his English translation of Hasan al-Banna’s
litany entitled al-Ma’thurat – 500,000 members in Egypt by the time the founder
was assassinated (not to mention those who could be classed as mere
‘sympathisers’, and those in other countries to which the movement had already
spread by that time). Although Nadwi objects to the movement deciding ‘a little
too early to step down into the arena of active politics’ – a contentious point,
suitable for another place – he laments the ‘liquidation of the Ikhwan’ as
being, ‘without doubt’ to his mind, ‘an irreparable loss to the Arab and the
larger Muslim world’. This sorrow on his part is because Nadwi saw the movement
as ‘unmistakably’ the ‘most powerful Islamic movement of modern times and a fast
progressing religious endeavour’; one that he felt was certainly well-equipped
to ‘working out an Islamic renaissance in West Asia’, if ‘the leaders of Islamic
thought in the countries of the Middle East [had] given it their unqualified
support’. In Islamic Studies, Orientalists and Muslim Scholars, in the course of
discussing ‘examples of genuine literary and research endeavours’ in the Arab
lands, Shaykh Nadwi exhibits a very positive attitude to some of the literary
works of al-Banna’s direct heirs; he writes: ‘Three more works showing clarity
and depth of thought are Al-Maratu Bain al Fiqhi wal Qanun (Women in Light of
Fiqah and Islamic law) by Dr. Mustafa as-Saba’i, Al-Madkhal-ul-Fiqhi il-‘Am by
Mustafa Ahmad Az-Zarqa and the late ‘Abdul Qadir ‘Audah’s At-Tashr’i ul-Jina’i
il-Islami Muqarna bil Qanun il-Waza’i which meet the current legal needs of the
Muslim countries’.

It appears
that Nadwi considered the Brotherhood to have improved upon the revivalist
notions of Jamaluddin Afghani and Muhammad ‘Abduh – of course one would be
negligent if trying to argue that these figures were not influences upon the
Brotherhood, even if indirect and minimal. Nadwi saw Afghani’s thought as too
concentrated on politics, and ‘Abduh’s religious thought too ‘defensive’, i.e.
he was, for Nadwi, ‘among the pioneers of the modernist movement in the Arab
World’, who issued forth ‘a powerful call for the reinterpretation of Islam’,
with ‘a heavy imprint of Western ideals’; thus making him appear to Nadwi as
another Sir Syed Ahmad Khan, the Indian contemporary.

I’ve
dwelled on Nadwi’s analysis, firstly, because he was a great scholar and
historian (may God’s mercy be upon him), and, secondly, because Nadwi’s positive
position on the essence of the movement – to which he was certainly not a member
– must be seen in light of his own great emphasis on the need for spiritual
rejuvenation as the foundation of Islam’s revival in society. Nadwi’s extensive
Saviours of the Islamic Spirit is a clear testimony, especially in the last
two-and-a-half volumes of the total four, to his call for Muslim focusing upon
the spiritual imperative. Of course, one cannot try and impute complete
acceptance of the Brotherhood’s spiritual training by Nadwi; but for someone
like him to discuss the movement as capable of ‘an Islamic renaissance’, then
one cannot suggest, by any means, that he was largely opposed to the spiritual
programme.

Now Hasan
al-Banna was an apparent product of many diverse influences from his time,
although one cannot argue that he was slavish to any of them; hence he was a
leader who essentially stood high himself, whilst not neglecting the currents of
thought around him, and taking what he saw as appropriate and casting aside what
he decided was dispensable. Therefore one is not surprised to hear him declare,
in the Fifth Conference, that his movement was a ‘salafi da’wah’, a ‘sunni Path’
and a ‘true Tasawwuf’ – for he took from each of these strands of thought.
Nevertheless, one cannot underestimate the crucial role played by the upbringing
bestowed upon him by his father, Shaykh Ahmad al-Banna, who conducted to be what
appears as a very detailed syllabus of religious study from an early age for
Hasan. According to S.M. Hasan al-Banna’s essay entitled Imam Shahid Hasan
Al-Banna: From Birth to Martyrdom, Shaykh Ahmad al-Banna was an Azhari scholar,
with a Hanbali leaning. Shaykh Ahmad is warmly mentioned by Shaykh Nadwi, in
Islamic Studies, in the section that I quoted from earlier, where it is stated
that Shaykh Ahmad’s rearrangement and interpretation of the Musnad of Imam Ahmad
bin Hanbal is ‘a work of exceptional value’, written ‘according to the needs of
the modern times’; and ‘unfortunately it remained incomplete’, but was still
published in ‘22 volumes’.

This
upbringing, together with its results, is certainly one factor towards
explaining why Hasan al-Banna’s thought and movement has historically been able
to attract the approval of official scholars, in particular from al-Azhar (such
as ‘Abdul Qadir ‘Audah, ‘Abdal-Fattah Abu Ghuddah, Mustafa Siba’i, Sayyid Sabiq,
Muhammad Ghazali, Yusuf Qaradawi and ‘Abdullah ‘Azzam), despite the fact that
Hasan al-Banna was not an Azhari scholar himself. Regarding Hasan al-Banna’s own
stance towards the scholars of al-Azhar, Shaykh Qaradawi has written in
Priorities:

‘Imam Hasan
al-Banna was always keen on keeping his lines open with the scholars of
al-Azhar, among whom he had many good friends. I once heard him say in a
convention that was held in Tanta and attended by a number of prominent Azhari
Scholars of the Azhari Institute in Tanta: “O ‘ulama’! You are the regular army
of Islam, with us behind you as the reserve army.”’

This
positive attitude towards the scholars of al-Azhar can be seen in one of
al-Banna’s most prominent women followers, Zainab al-Ghazali. The latter writes
in Return of the Pharaoh: Memoir in Nasir’s Prison that she would consult with
Shaykh Muhammad al-Awdan of al-Azhar on ‘all da’wah affairs and issues related
to Islamic learning’ – the noble lady further says that al-Awdan ‘was also aware
of…[her] pledge to al-Banna which he both blessed and supported’. In Priorities,
Qaradawi encourages people of his understanding to ‘winning the official
religious institutions to its side’, and he lists al-Azhar, ‘al-Zaytuna in
Tunisia, al-Qarawiyyin in Morocco and the Deoband in Pakistan and India.’
Nevertheless, despite Qaradawi encouraging such links and supports, he warns:

‘Naturally,
this does not apply to those institutions that have sold their Din to have the
good things of this life, becoming a mouthpiece for tyrants and a sword that
unjust rulers brandish…Such institutions should never be neglected or given a
respite, as they should be laid bare before their people for what they really
are, so that the people may guard themselves against their evils.’ [Shaykh
Qaradawi does add: ‘We have also to differentiate between those who have become
tools in the hands of tyrants, or shoes on their feet, and those who are weak
and hate tyrants but are prevented from resisting tyranny by their weakness and
fear. The weak, though intimidated to the extent of keeping silent and not
uttering the word of right, do not get involved in saying the word of wrong.’]

There is
also evidence that Shaykh Ahmad al-Banna’s influence on his son was certainly
spiritual, and not simply intellectual in part. This is borne out from Hasan
al-Banna’s Memoirs, as quoted by Zakariya al-Siddiqi in his Prologue to the
English translation of Hasan al-Banna’s al-Ma’thurat: ‘I used to recite the
wazifa [litany] of Ahmad Zarruq every morning and evening. I was very much
impressed by the wazifa as my father had written a beautiful commentary on it.
He provided the evidences for almost all the expressions (used in the wazifa)
from authentic ahadith.’ Shaykh Ahmad Zarruq was a famous Maliki jurist, as well
as Sufi; thus we see the Sufic influence on both the father Ahmad and son Hasan
– a facet of the latter’s personal being that remained with him for life, and
which he attempted to impart to his movement.

A study of
Hasan al-Banna’s list of pledges required from the official movement activists
reveals a strong emphasis on knowledge, which is the foundation of spirituality,
and good deeds for the nourishment of the soul. From the perspective of
knowledge, he made it a requirement to ‘ponder’ the meanings of the Qur’an,
study the life of the Prophet Muhammad (may God’s peace and blessings be upon
him), the history of the early Muslims, the hadith literature, and ‘a text on
the principles of the Islamic belief and another on Islamic jurisprudence’. His
list of good deeds, obviously defined by knowledge of the aforementioned
religious sciences, was very extensive: ‘Devote a section from the Quran for
daily reading, not less than one juz’ [one-thirtieth of the Qur’an]…’, with the
Qur’an to be completed within a month, ‘but not in less than three to four
days’; remain healthy in one’s body; be truthful, dependable, courageous, of
sound character in its comprehensive, Islamic sense; ‘always refer to the
purified tradition of the Messenger of Allah (Allah bless him and give him
peace)’, and ‘struggle for the revival of forgotten Islamic customs and the
elimination of practices alien to Islam in all areas of life’; maintain a
constant awareness of God, whilst seeking support to this noble aim through the
voluntary ritual prayer of the night [at-tahajjud], voluntary fasts three days a
month and engaging ‘in much dhikr [remembrance], both of the heart and the
tongue and recite the renowned supplications of the Messenger of Allah (may the
peace and blessings of Allah be upon him)’; perform the daily ritual prayers ‘in
congregation in the mosque as frequently as possible’; ‘constantly repent and
seek Allah’s forgiveness for the sins…committed’; ‘devote an hour…every night
before going to bed and take account of the good and bad things…done throughout
the day’; and, in general, follow the Sacred Law in every matter.

Of course,
one can discuss the theory of spirituality, and the stages of the soul and
obliteration [fana’] of heedlessness of God, and the perpetuation [baqa’] in
that heightened sense of spiritual awareness and wakefulness, together with the
lore of love and trust in the Divine, and so on and so forth, but the loftiness
might well be the work of the tongue alone, with no confirmation in the reality
of the person – and in God is our refuge! Islamic spirituality is certainly not
only discourse, and nor is it simply mysticism and wondrous occurrences, as
understood in the contemporary Western sense; but, rather, it is about a state
of being, with all the praiseworthy qualities of the revelation. Apart from the
hagiographic material on Hasan al-Banna’s own profound spiritual condition,
which is easily available, the best testimony of his training – which expounds
the point in glowing detail – can be found in Zainab al-Ghazali’s Return of the
Pharaoh. This work recounts the torture of the Brotherhood in the prisons of
Egypt in the mid-twentieth century simple because they rejected
Arab-Soviet-Socialism. It is, perhaps, sufficient testimony of al-Banna’s direct
spiritual influence – even if one can disagree with certain political or
intellectual stances of the noble lady (may God’s mercy be upon her). Spiritual
states can be discussed in the tranquillity of retreat in one’s spiritual lodge
or ‘ivory tower’, far from real life and its troubles, yet one is ever so
pressed to experience the sweetness of certitude in the Divine whilst the most
barbaric feats of man and beast are visited upon one. The book of Zainab
al-Ghazali is a real story, without a seeming romantic inclination, and one that
is an evidential depiction of some of the most exquisite spiritual theory –
surrounding such notions as faith, sincerity [ikhlas], trust [tawakkul],
patience [sabr], love of God [mahabba], fana’, baqa’, ‘tasting’ [dhawq], etc. –
that one can gather from Sufic texts like Qushayri’s Risala, Ibn ‘Ata’illah’s
Hikam or Ghazali’s Ihya’. Hence we are justified in focusing on the dynamic
revivalist method of spiritual development because there exists sufficient proof
of its efficacy, by God’s will.

Part Three:
Specifics of the Method

It is
logical that knowledge is the foundation of any spiritual imperative, and
without it one cannot know what one must do or become. Knowledge is the only
reliable means of judging one’s spiritual awareness according to the Prophetic
norm [sunnah], as opposed to one’s subjective, and possibly deluded, surmising.
Therefore we see from the above that al-Banna required his people to read a book
of theology and Sacred Law.

Hasan
al-Banna’s theological stance on the essentials of belief is clearly seen from
his own al-‘Aqa’id [The Tenets of Faith]. This work, together with the advice of
his inheritors like Shaykh Yusuf Qaradawi, show that his theological stance was
to be Sunni, without resorting to further labelling – like naming one’s self
‘Ash’ari’, ‘Maturidi’ or ‘Athari’; and nor did it require an unnecessary
involvement with theological polemics that are without prospect of decisive
resolution. Al-Banna’s final position in this aforementioned theological work
with regards to the controversy regarding the attributes of God is to endorse
the position of Imam Nawawi, as can be seen by al-Banna’s categorical
endorsement of Nawawi’s position in the essay – Nawawi’s position, as under
discussion, can be seen in a4.3 of Reliance of the Traveller; and it is: the
‘safest’ stance is the ‘path of the early Muslims, or the vast majority of
them’, and to not issue forth ‘a definite interpretation, but rather their
meaning should not be discussed, and the knowledge of them should be consigned
to Allah Most High, while at the same time believing in the transcendence of
Allah Most High, and that the characteristics of created things do not apply to
Him’; and Nawawi continues: ‘But if the need arises for definite interpretations
to refute someone making unlawful innovations and the like, then the learned may
supply them, and this is how we should understand what has come down to us from
the scholars in this field. And Allah knows best’.

Moreover,
Shaykh Qaradawi, in Approaching the Sunnah, has declared his personal agreement
with Ibn Taymiyya’s position on the ‘attributes of God’; but he also, in
Priorities, has called for Muslims to ‘bury historical problems that have
preoccupied Muslim minds and wasted Muslim efforts for some time in vain’, to
which he includes the ‘unneeded exaggeration in raising controversies [in
theology]…between the early and later generations and the attempts to refute the
’aqida of the Ash’aris, Maturidis and their proponents among the scholars of
religious universities in the Islamic world – al-Azhar, al-Zaytuna,
al-Qarawiyyin, Deoband, etc.’ [Shaykh Qaradawi’s support for the doctrinal
position of Ibn Taymiyya is obviously underlined by the belief that he was not
an anthropomorphist, and essentially entails believing that Ibn Taymiyya’s
stance was the method of most, not all, of the early Muslims [as-salaf] (a
position on Ibn Taymiyya shared by people like Abul Hasan Ali Nadwi, Taqi
‘Uthmani and Sa’id Ramadan Buti).]

The short
theological treatise by Imam Tahawi, entitled al-‘Aqidah at-Tahawiyya, was
arranged for translation into English by one of my teachers, Shaykh Iqbal Azami
(a graduate of Darul Uloom Deoband, and a scribe for Abul Hasan Ali Nadwi), and
it is a sound, essential and minimalist theological presentation that fits in
with the needs identified by al-Banna and Qaradawi. Shaykh Azami didn’t feel the
need for the Muslim laity to study a commentary of this work, because he felt
its contents were sufficiently clear; and he liked the fact that it was a means
for bringing various Sunni groupings – from ‘salafi’ to ‘Ash’ari’ – together on
a sound basis, without getting ahead of one’s self in pursuit of more exacting
clarifications of controversies. One cannot envisage either al-Banna or Qaradawi
disagreeing with Azami’s argument here.

When one
turns to al-Banna’s stance on the specifics of Sacred Law, then one is on less
certain ground. Nevertheless, if one considers some of those who took-on
al-Banna’s legacy, such as Sayyid Sabiq, Yusuf Qaradawi, Sa’id Hawwa (a
prominent scholar with the Syrian branch of the Brotherhood, and a prolific
author) and the group of Zainab al-Ghazali’s time, then one can, perhaps,
conclude the following principle in this regard: one follows qualified
scholarship wherever one finds it. This means that one accepts that most people
will be obliged to follow one of the four Sunni schools of law (Hanafi, Maliki,
Shafi’i and Hanbali) simply because most people can only access a conservative,
minor scholar who is confined by their limitations to such a restricted method –
and there is no blame in such a state, for expertise is rare; indeed, Hawwa, in
Jund Allah, recommended that people study a comprehensive, intermediate text
from one of the four schools, and he gave Maydani’s commentary on Quduri’s
Mukhtasar as an example. Nonetheless, those who can access the teachings of a
major scholar or a mufti – in classical literature, as seen in Mawardi’s
Ordinances of Government and in the Reliance of the Traveller, the mufti is to
be a person of ijtihad, and not bound by any scholar or school apart from his
own judgments based on the primary sources – can then follow him or her, even
when they divert from norms, either through tarjih (selecting one opinion from
the inherited opinions, even if from outside the four schools) or ijtihad
(which, by its nature, opens up the possibility of differing with the schools).
Azhari scholars like Sabiq and Qaradawi are examples of scholars who followed
this method of tarjih and ijtihad. Shaykh Qaradawi can be seen to summarise his
stance in Priorities as follows: ‘balanced between the advocates of strict
madhhabiyya [belonging to a school of thought in fiqh] and the advocates of
loose non-madhhabiyya.’

Again, as
with theology, one can see how such a profound stance on Sacred Law is above the
dialectical polemics that have plagued Muslims in the English-speaking West
since the mid-1990’s. Such polemics simplify scholarly complexities for
mass-consumption, which ultimately leave’s one with slogans instead of
fully-developed discussion; and the consequence can be dull debates, but most
regrettably it manifests itself in the unnecessary weakening of solidarity, in a
tendency towards a ‘purified’ Sunni path (whether ‘salafi’ or
‘Ash’ari/madhhabi/muridi’, as the most famous slogans go in the dialectic).

By way of
summation on the topic of theology and Sacred Law, one must provide some
foundational principles held by al-Banna’s legacy, which are held in common with
all orthodox persuasions. In Priorities, Qaradawi states that there is one area
that revivalist thought ‘can never enter under any conditions – it is the area
of al-qat’iyyat [the conclusive] where Islam has passed its decisive judgement
in the various aspects of ‘aqida, ‘ibadah and ahkam.’ Moreover, Qaradawi, in
Islamic Awakening Between Rejection and Extremism, discusses those ‘rulings
which are necessarily recognised by all people, learned or otherwise’, in which
‘rejection’ of them is considered ‘an expression of blatant disbelief’ – Imam
Nawawi, in his commentary on Sahih Muslim (as included in the Reliance of the
Traveller), calls these ‘ma ya’lam min ad-din al-islam daruratan’, translated by
Nuh Keller as ‘something that is necessarily known to be of the religion of
Islam’. The conclusive matters are then contrasted with what Qaradawi calls
‘speculative matters’. On this latter category, Qaradawi elaborated:
‘disagreement on these issues based on sound, legitimate independent reasoning
represents no harm or threat’; and such differences had existed since the time
of the Companions (may God be well pleased with them all).

Furthermore, Qaradawi concurs with the judgement of Hasan al-Banna that
‘disagreements on subsidiary religious issues are inevitable for various
reasons’ (al-Banna’s words); therefore the Muslims must unite on the essentials,
and tolerate the disagreement on the non-essentials, in a way which does not
unduly weaken their ranks. In Islamic Awakening, Shaykh Qaradawi has written:
‘There is indeed profound wisdom to be seen in the fact that very few Islamic
legal rulings are of definitive certainty with respect to both their meaning and
their chains of transmission.’ Shaykh Qaradawi’s presidency of the European
Council for Juridical Opinions and Research has operated on such lines of
openness, as his entire legal theory expounds, and has allowed differing views
and approaches to operate in the Council; hence one sees the Shaykh entertaining
and encouraging the participation of dynamic scholars like himself (such as
Faisal Mawlawi and ‘Abdullah al-Juday’) with more conservative figures (such as
Isma’il Kacholwi and Suhaib Hasan (and Taqi ‘Uthmani was encouraged to
participate as well)).

All of
these principles can be said to underpin the legacy of al-Banna in terms of
spiritual method.

Part Four:
Specifics of the Method (continued)

It is
obvious that any orthodox spiritual method is going to give prominence to the
Qur’an. One certainly sees Hasan al-Banna exhorting his followers to engage into
a profound relationship with the Qur’an, with his orders for dedicated
recitation and to ‘ponder’ upon its meanings. Numerous heirs of al-Banna have
dedicated considerable attention to expounding upon the meanings of the entire
Qur’an. The most famous being Sayyid Qutb’s In the Shade of the Qur’an;
furthermore, Muhammad Ghazali and Sa’id Hawwa have written comprehensive
commentaries – Shaykh Qaradawi praises the efforts of Qutb and Ghazali, amongst
others, in Approaching the Sunnah, for making the message of the Qur’an relevant
for the modern age. Zainab al-Ghazali, in Return of the Pharaoh, discusses the
studying of Qutb’s work – her life-account indicates the profound impact that
the personality of the man himself (whom she knew very well) and his Milestones
and non-traditional tafsir had on her own spiritual journey. Nevertheless,
Zainab al-Ghazali also mentions how the Brotherhood people in her time would
also study Ibn Kathir’s Tafsir. My opinion is that contemporaries who desire to
benefit from the types of modern works as those just cited should follow Zainab
al-Ghazali’s approach, and thus ensure that they also study classical
commentaries, or modern efforts that follow the classical method.

According
to S.M. al-Banna, Hasan al-Banna placed Imam Ghazali’s Ihya’ ‘ulum ad-din on the
teaching syllabus; and he compiled a litany entitled al-Ma’thurat from the
Qur’an and the hadith corpus for members and others to recite, individually or
collectively, in both the morning and evening. Zainab al-Ghazali narrates how
the group, in her time, studied Mundhiri’s at-Targhib wa’l-tarhib and Ibn
al-Qayyim’s Zad al-ma’ad, which are moral and spiritual treatises. Whilst Shaykh
Hawwa, in Jund Allah, recommended in regards to ‘good character’ [al-akhlaq] the
Ihya’ of Ghazali and the Risala of Qushayri; moreover, Hawwa himself wrote a
commentary on Ibn ‘Ata’illah’s Hikam, so that is another obvious recommendation
of his. In Approaching the Sunnah, Qaradawi made an extensive list of works on
the Sunnah that should be utilised for ‘preaching and guidance’, as well as for
instruction for ‘the purification of the soul’; and for English-speakers, the
following from the long list of recommendations have been translated: Riyad
as-Salihin by Imam Nawawi (which Qaradawi said ‘is a book blessed and splendid
in usefulness.’), the Forty Hadith of Imam Nawawi with the commentary by Ibn
Rajab al-Hanbali (a commentary which Qaradawi called ‘the most esteemed, and the
most popular and beneficial’), and the Hujjat Allah al-baligha of Shah Waliullah
(the first volume of which has been translated; and which Qaradawi praises for
its discussion of the ‘secrets, and the religious and social wisdom’ in many
hadith). Furthermore, Shaykh ‘Abdal-Fattah Abu Ghudda produced an edition of
al-Muhasibi’s Risala al-mustarshidin.

Of course,
the nature of dynamic revivalism, as shown earlier, is to try and follow the
most exacting of scholars; and the nature of such expertise is that it is only
slavish to the Qur’an and Sunnah, and to no scholar besides these two
foundational pillars. Shaykh Qaradawi clearly highlights this attitude in
Approaching the Sunnah, where he says that despite Ibn Taymiyyah being the
scholar ‘very dearest’ to his heart, he treats Ibn Taymiyyah as any other
scholar, and does not follow him in everything; he declares: ‘So I love Ibn
Taymiyyah, but I am not a Taymiyyan. Al-Dhahabi said: “Shaykh al-Islam is dear
to us; but the truth is dearer to us than he.”’ Therefore all of these books of
strictly spiritual theory are to be taught critically within dynamic revivalist
thought. Qaradawi himself, in Priorities, says that even al-Banna never claimed
‘infallibility’ for himself, and he was ‘not rigid in his approach’; and that he
‘would not “turn in his grave” if some of his followers [that is, of al-Ikhwan
al-Muslimin] went against him on an issue’. In essence, the true scholars know
the veracity of the saying of Imam Shafi’i that is quoted in the translator’s
introduction to Reliance of the Traveller: ‘Allah has refused to give divine
protection from error (‘isma) to anyone besides His prophets’.

This
critical attitude to teaching can certainly be applied to the study of Sufic
texts. With regards to the Ihya’, Qaradawi considered it ‘necessary for the
reader of al-Ihya’ to refer’ to Zayn al-Din al-‘Iraqi’s discussion of the hadith
used by Ghazali, because ‘one knows the rank of the hadiths that were adduced by
al-Ghazali, and how many extremely weak hadiths there are in it, others with no
source for them, and others pronounced fabricated!’ Qaradawi even warns the
student about simply taking Mundhiri’s at-Targhib at face value, because the
book has the ‘weak’ and ‘extremely weak’ hadith in it, which is why Qaradawi was
driven to make his own composition of the work, with only the strong hadith
(sahih and hasan). All of this should not be taken as evidence that Qaradawi is
unaware of the argument in favour of using weak hadith in the realm of spiritual
teaching. He mentions the three criteria cited by Ibn Hajar (and then reiterated
by Suyuti) on the conditions for ‘the acceptance of weak hadiths on the
softening of heart and targhib’; but he mentions how even these three criteria
have not been faithfully followed in many instances, and he offers further
explanation of how to approach this issue – those interested in this discussion,
which is beyond our task here, can consult Qaradawi’s Approaching the Sunnah.

A critical
attitude of the nature under discussion can also be extended to more theoretical
matters. A noted Western pro-Sufic writer such as T.J. Winter (a.k.a. Abdal
Hakim Murad, a.k.a. Karim Fenari) himself notes, in the introduction to his
translation of Ghazali entitled Disciplining the Soul/Breaking the Two Desires,
that Imam Ghazali’s Ihya’ is a clear testimony that ‘extravagances abound in the
hagiographies’ of the Sufis. In this latter translation, Winter provides one
such instance that Ibn al-Jawzi took exception to, whereby ‘one of the
Shaykhs…treated his love of wealth by selling all that he owned and throwing the
proceeds into the sea, fearing that if he gave it to other people he would be
afflicted by self-satisfaction and a desire to be seen doing this’. Winter says
that Ibn al-Jawzi doubted the story’s ‘ethical value’; and Winter sides with
Zabidi’s defence of Ghazali, which states that ‘such lessons are not cited as
general principles of conduct, but merely illustrate ways in which the religious
obligation of tawakkul, true reliance upon God, may for certain individuals
under the guidance of a Shaykh sometimes take precedence over those usages of
religion which, while recommended, are not obligatory’. Another example of
Ghazali’s Sufic theory coming under criticism can be seen in Imam Qurtubi’s
Tafsir in commentary of Qur’an 2:283. In the course of discussing those Sufis
who ‘abandon all their wealth and do not leave enough for themselves and their
families’, and who then ‘either turn to the generosity of brothers or friends,
or take from the wealthy and unjust’, Qurtubi writes: ‘This is blameworthy and
forbidden…Al-Muhasibi talked a lot about this and Abu Hamid al-Ghazali praised
it as well. I think al-Muhasibi has more excuse than Abu Hamid because Abu Hamid
had more fiqh, although his entry into tasawwuf obliged him to support what he
had entered into.’ Qurtubi then proceeds to give a lengthy quotation from Ibn
al-Jawzi on the issue. Now one could suggest, in light of such controversies,
that a novice first avoid such discussions, and focus on the essence of the
spiritual method; and this could be gained from Ibn Qudama Maqdisi’s Mukhtasar
minhaj al-qasidin, which is an abridgement of Ibn al-Jawzi’s correction of
Ghazali’s Ihya’. Of course, such controversies are the vocation of scholarship,
so one should be on guard against forming an overly negative opinion of the
great Imam Ghazali (may God’s mercy be upon him) and his great Ihya’ – both of
which have been a blessing to this ummah, and we thank God for them both.

Nonetheless, toleration of valid differences of opinion is not the same as not
having an opinion on a controversial matter and issuing it forth. In the Preface
to his al-Ma’thurat, Hasan al-Banna defended and encouraged the performance of
remembrance as a collective, despite the fact that this is a question that Sunni
scholars differ on. Likewise, one sees this same willingness to hold firmly to
one’s own position in Shaykh ‘Abdal-Fattah Abu Ghuddah’s condemnation of
‘dancing’ whilst engaging in God’s remembrance – as taken from a short extract
translated by A. Haque, and posted on the old thetranslators’ blog. Shaykh
‘Abdal-Fattah wrote: ‘the type of dhikr performed by some people which comprises
of rhythmically coordinated movements of the body, melodious hymns and songs,
jumping, leaping, hopping, bending forward and then straightening up, and
violent twisting and shoving, then this form of dhikr is forbidden, for a sound
fitra finds it repugnant, and a heart in khushu` is far removed from the likes
of such things.’ In the course of defending his position, he cites Ibn Hajar,
Qurtubi and Ahmad Tahtawi as particular references supporting condemnation.
Indeed, one need not look solely at Brotherhood scholars for such positions.
Another Syrian scholar of a conservative bent of mind – like ‘Abdal-Fattah Abu
Ghudda himself – namely Shaykh M. Sa’id Ramadan al-Buti, in his Jurisprudence of
the Prophetic Biography, gives a similarly stinging rebuttal of the ‘dancing’ of
the Sufis that ‘involves bending and swaying back and forth’ in the ‘ceremonies
devoted to the remembrance of God’; he calls such practices ‘prohibited’
according to ‘the majority of Muslim jurisprudents’, and at least ‘undesirable’
when such movements are not included. Shaykh Buti uses al-‘Izz ibn ‘Abdas-Salam,
Ibn Hajar, Ibn ‘Abidin and Qurtubi to back his argument, and his summation is:
‘Were it not for the fact that it would mean being long-winded on a topic that
requires brevity, I would set forth the views expressed on this matter by many
other Imams as well’. Nevertheless, the position of tolerance on this matter of
some disagreement with a minority of jurisprudents is well articulated by Shaykh
Buti in a footnote to his discussion; he says: ‘At the same time, I wish to
affirm my appreciation for many of these esteemed individuals and my certainty
of their integrity and the purity of their intentions, my excuse for differing
with them being that this appreciation and esteem do not justify being
unfaithful to the texts before me or interpreting them metaphorically such that
their original intent is distorted.’ Again, such a spirit is characteristic of
the nobility of the Brotherhood scholarship.

Whilst one
can argue that people like al-Banna and Qaradawi, in particular, had a generally
positive view of the Sufis and tasawwuf, they were not inclined towards
submission to the Sufic Orders [turuq, singular: tariqa] or their Guides, and
they certainly didn’t hold the notion that the heights of Islamic spirituality
were to only be found in the Orders. Hasan al-Banna himself operated as the
political and spiritual leader of the Brotherhood – interestingly, he was called
murshid, which is the term commonly used for the leader of a Sufic Order and
means Guide, as opposed to being called amir, which means leader – and this has
continued. As I alluded earlier, in the course of discussing Zainab al-Ghazali
and her narrations, one could understand that the Brotherhood believed that
their system of spiritual training was producing equally good, if not better,
people of profound God-consciousness. In his notes to Muhasibi’s Risalah
al-mustarshidin, Shaykh ‘Abdal-Fattah Abu Ghudda includes a correspondence
between Imam Shatibi, the great jurist, and Ibn ‘Abbad ar-Rundi, a leading Sufi
of his time and author of a popular commentary on Ibn ‘Ata’illah’s Hikam.
Shatibi had requested that Ibn ‘Abbad answer him whether it was ‘incumbent upon
the one traversing the spiritual path to Allah to take a sheikh of a tariqah and
tarbiyah and travel upon his hands? Or is it allowable to take this path by
seeking knowledge and taking from the people of knowledge without having a
sheikh of a tariqah?’ Ibn ‘Abbad’s essential response was:

‘The Sheikh
of Tarbiyah is not a necessity for every seeker. However, the one who needs such
a sheikh is he who has a limited intellect and disobedient soul. As for the one
who possesses an ample intellect and submissive character, then it is not
incumbent on him to take such a sheikh. However, what is an obligation on every
seeker is to take a sheikh who will teach him and educate him.’ [Translation
provided by Suhaib Webb, on the old thetranslators’ blog.]

At the same
time, I do not believe that the Brotherhood are opposed to people taking Sufic
Guides if they feel the need; however, there might be the objection if such a
relationship is engaged into with the novice then being pacified from living a
full Islamic existence of communal and societal engagement, whereby a Sufic
Guide is not only seen as a spiritual instructor, but seen to be also possessing
what one could call ‘political astuteness’, which might not be the case. Despite
a rather glorious history until the early twentieth century, Sufic Orders, in
general, have not since been at the forefront of leading global Muslim societal
concerns, unlike the Brotherhood itself; rather, they have engaged in simply
teaching spirituality in a somewhat isolated manner; and Tariq Ramadan, in To Be
a European Muslim, has noted that Sufic Orders are largely ‘apolitical’ in the
‘Islamic world’ and in Europe. Of course, should such a condition of the Orders
change, then one could entertain the notion of them taking up the reins of
political leadership, if they should show a mastery of this field.

Moreover,
the accommodation of a vital, yet restricted, role to be potentially played by
the Sufic Orders in societal revival means accepting them with their
non-essential idiosyncrasies, as they will have to do with others. For example
of the former contention, a Brotherhood attitude to the Sufic Orders is to
tolerate their claims of unbroken chains of lineage back to the Prophet (may the
peace and blessings of God be upon him), despite the fact that the chains might
well be broken according to the hadith scholars. Gibril Haddad, a noted
translator and researcher, on the livingislam Web-site (and, I believe, in his
recent Four Imams), has outlined how ‘the consensus of the early Imams is that
al-Hasan [al-Basri] did not hear anything directly from `Ali [ibn Abi Talib], or
from Ibn `Abbas, or from Abu Hurayra (Allah be well-pleased with them) as stated
by Yahya ibn Ma`in, Ibn al-Madini, Abu Zur`a, `Ali ibn Ziyad, Abu Hatim, Ibn Abi
Hatim, and others, and that such chains are mursal’ – as narrated by Ibn Hajar,
Dhahabi, al-‘Iraqi, Sakhawi, and others, according to Haddad. Moreover, Haddad
has noted that the attempts of Imam Suyuti and Ahmad Ghumari to establish a link
between Hasan al-Basri and ‘Ali ibn Abi Talib are not ‘conclusive’. Haddad,
furthermore, is fair when it comes to his own Naqhsbandi lineage, which
allegedly goes through Abu Bakr (may Allah be well pleased with him), when he
writes in the same article: ‘Isnad-wise it is equally correct that the Bakri
Naqshbandi silsila itself has even greater gaps.’ Moreover, Haddad points out in
the same post: ‘Imam al-Sakhawi was a Shadhili and he said he narrates the chain
that goes through al-Hasan, from sayyidina `Ali, “not that its isnad is unbroken
but because of its baraka [blessing – AB].”’ Ultimately, the point of any
spiritual training is its efficacy, by the grace of God, in producing a godly
soul, even if the spiritual adept believes in some false ideas – as long as the
religion is not undermined and people of piety are produced, then why are we to
argue over such matters? The controversy about the link between ‘Ali and Hasan
al-Basri is not that serious.

Part Five:
Conclusion

Hasan
al-Banna’s grandson, the academic Tariq Ramadan, has noted in his Foreword to
the English-translation of al-Ma’thurat:

‘The secret
of Imam Hasan Al-Banna was the quality of his faith and the intensity of his
relationship with God. Anyone who had ever been in contact with him perceived
and experienced this. He lived as had the first Sahaba – following the path of
the Prophet (may the peace and blessings of God be upon him)…Imam Hasan Al-Banna
had understood that there was no future for Muslims if they did not recapture
what was essential to their hearts, their personal striving, their conscience
and memory.

‘The world
is a trap and it sometimes happens that temptation can, in subtle ways, assail
those who are engaged in Islamic activities such as da’wah, education,
solidarity, talks and lectures. Drowning in Islamic commitments, activities and
projects, what eventually happens is that they forget what is absolutely
essential: to give one’s time to be with God, to get to know Him while being
intimately attached to tawhid, to remember Him (dhikr), to purify one’s heart
(tazkiya al-nafs), to feed the conscience of these works (al-muhasaba), to be
attached to the Qur’an, to pray, to fast and to do the invocations. This is
necessary every day and every night.’

One can
well imagine that this lesson in prioritising one’s life was grasped by Ramadan
from his father, Sa’id Ramadan, the son-in-law of Hasan al-Banna and so called
‘the little Hasan al-Banna’. In his Islam, the West and the Challenges of
Modernity, Tariq Ramadan illustrates this point directly from his father: ‘A few
months before returning to God, he said to me…“Our problem is one of
spirituality. If a man comes to speak to me about the reforms to be undertaken
in the Muslim world, about political strategies and of great geo-strategic
plans, my first question would be whether he performed the dawn prayer (fajr) in
its time.”’ Shaykh Zakariya al-Siddiqi, in his Prologue to the English
translation of al-Ma’thurat, points to a similar spiritual crisis amongst those
who seem to be inheritors of al-Banna’s legacy; he writes:

“I grew up
in an environment full of tilawah and dhikr. The members of Ikhwan in my area
used to gather after salat al-fajr and salat al-asr to read the wazifa (litany)
that was composed by al-Imam al-Murshid Hasan Al-Banna, upon him be Allah’s
mercy and forgiveness…a certain spirit flowed from it through me. It was those
circles of dhikr that instilled in me assiduity and continuity in dhikr. The
flowing spirit grew with every tasbih, tahlil and takbir…

“As for
what we find today i.e. the neglect of the recitation of Al-Ma’thurat among the
members of the Islamic Movement, it is something which can not be understood.
Perhaps the over emphasis on political activism and dragging the ‘beginners’ and
not the ‘specialists’ in partisan and syndicate based struggles is a possible
explanation pointing towards this relapse in the path of tazkiya al-nafs
(purification of the heart)…

“We will
remain ever ignorant of the realities of our Islam and the secrets of our
strength if we do not fill up our time with salah, siyam, infaq, abiding by a
Qur’anic wird, adhkar and supplications for different occasions…Let us return to
the circles of dhikr and the collective recitation of Al-Ma’thurat and make the
Qur’an and du’a provisions for our soul on the path towards Allah.”

All these
heart-searching words from both of the Ramadans and al-Siddiqi point to why much
of what I have said in this essay will appear theoretical for Muslims in
England, because they have not witnessed a spiritual method of its description
in this land that conforms to the theory, despite being aware of an historical
presence and activity of groups associated with Hasan al-Banna’s call. Perhaps
this also explains why such groups have not been as successful as their
counterparts in the Muslim heartlands, and have had numerous initial members
either leave for polemical reasons or due to spiritual crisis (that might, I
admit, be the fault of the individual and not the group in many cases).

At the same
time, one sees in England that such affiliates to al-Banna have produced some of
the most pleasant, integrated religious Muslims, as well as producing the most
advanced institutions (and I here have in mind the Islamic Foundation and
Markfield Institute, as well as the ever expanding East London Masjid (now
called the London Muslim Centre)). Therefore we are hopeful that such a good
record on producing law-abiding, religious Muslims, as well as the finest record
of institutional development, together with such expansive resources, can be
further channelled into bringing the profound spiritual programme of Hasan
al-Banna and his heirs into the English language and life; and such an endeavour
is already aided by the many good translations of classic modern and ancient
texts by people associated with other Sunni groupings.

Also, when
one considers that the most optimistic estimates of Muslim religiosity in Europe
for example – such as Tariq Ramadan’s given figures for basic religious
observance in To Be a European Muslim – one notices that there is a significant
majority of Muslims who are unobservant of even the essentials of the religion.
This means that the many polemical groupings – whether political, ‘Sufi’ or
‘salafi’ – have been unsuccessful in developing a mass movement of Muslim piety,
despite their decades’ worth of conferences, intensives, magazines,
publications, etc. Therefore if we consider my thesis that Hasan al-Banna’s true
legacy has not been implemented in the West, together with the obvious balance
inherent to many of his stances (and those of his heirs) on the various areas of
the religion that we have discussed, then one can well wonder as to whether a
true presentation and development of this method might be well placed to finally
inspire the large majority to regain their sense of faith, by the grace of God –
as well as possibly tendering the somewhat bickering minority of ‘practising’
Muslims of the groups.

A spiritual
flowering of intense experience of the Divine is one sure weapon, by God’s will,
towards quelling the ignorant actions that have, ever so regrettably, made our
land unsafe for all of us. Whether our hopes are well placed, or whether history
will record a missed opportunity (like the one that Shaykh Nadwi recounted about
Egypt at the turn of the twentieth century), is something we cannot now know.
Yet high hopes in the development of a religious Muslim community that is a
credit to this land, bringing peace to it, is something that none of us can ever
despair of. Ibn ‘Ata’illah said in the Hikam: ‘Whoever finds it astonishing that
God should save him from his passion or yank him out of his forgetfulness has
deemed the divine Power (al-qudra al-ilahiyya) to be weak. “And God has power
over everything [Qur’an 18:45]”’ (as translated by Victor Danner, in the Sufi
Aphorisms of Ibn ‘Ata’illah). Likewise, the appalling negativity that one
perceives in the current Muslim landscape – and in particularly within our souls
– should not make one forget the indomitable power of God to change the worst of
states into the most noble, and make the Muslims a credit to this age. Wa ma
dhalika ‘ala Allah bi’aziz – and that is not difficult for God!